Ambivilence
by Cassandra Grantham
Summary: A young writer can't decipher between her love and hate for a famous actor.


No matter how hard i try, i can never seem to say no to him. It didn't even matter what was going on. I just would leave. Fuck the fact that this time it was the night of the premiere for the FIRST movie that i wrote myself.

By now, my friends all had left me because of my disappearing acts. I still had a few back home, but after all they didn't know anything about my life here. When they heard that i bailed from the premiere, my mum just told them i got nervous. But i wasn't nervous... i was lonely.

I think i self-consciencely i knew what was about to happen this morning. Nothing went right. My dress came only 3 hours late, i couldn't stop sweating, and my publist was bitching about how she need a statement about why i was 'so withdrawn'.

'Seriously, Joanie. Can't this wait?' i begged. ' I mean i am so fucking nervous, do i really need to answer some bullshit questions. Just say i have some kind of problem, fuck i don't even care, just say i'm having family problems.' It was more than the truth...

'I can't keep lying. They'll eventually find some dirt on you.' She laughed. Not funny.

'They better not, that's why i hired you, to keep dirt away from my sparkling reputation.' she rolled her eyes and left the room, and yelled, 'I'm fucking saying you have a spastic bladder.' i chuckled.

'Oh, also add that my publicist is a bitch. They'd eat that shit up.' She laughed and shut the door.

Once she left, I immediately felt uncormfortable. i could see my reflection in the mirror and it was like i wasn't even the same person. I looked at myself in utter disgust. Part of me was sad i hated myself, the other didn't give a fuck.

I get to the movie premiere, and immediately all i can hear or see are screaming voices and flashes of light. I am definately not digging this.

(By the way, i just wanted to add that I hate the red carpet. It looks glamorous on the outside, as you stare at your TV screen, wishing that you could get a glance of Johnny Depp, but i can gurantee that it doesn't start out fabulous. I truly believe the papparazzi suck the blood out of the Stars and spit it on the carpet to make it red before each show.)

I was only there an hour and then everything changed. My phone started ringing while i was being interviewed by E!. The journalist was aggitated, and i was embarassed. She said, 'Where are your people, can't they answer a phone?' But after i saw who was on the other line, everything went into slow motion. It was him. I quickly ran to a the inside corner of a near by catering tent. No one bothered me. No one even knew who i was.

'Hello?... What?... No... you know how much this means... yeah, i don't wanna be here, but it's my first... Seriously? Well, if it's an emergency... Fuck, fine... i'll be there in 20...' When i hung up i looked around and saw a cab on the otherside of the tent. A young hispanic driver was pushing in some things the caterer didn't need in his trunk and i ran up behind him.

'i'll give you a 500 if you just take me to 100th and Aspen.'

'Lady, are you crazy?'

'Yeah, i am, get in the God Damn car. If you lose your job, you can have mine, GO!'

Once i left, my phone went crazy with calls from Joanie and my manager. I let them go to voicemail. I knew he only would call me if it was important, and it sounded important. Okay, maybe i wanted it to sound important. I prayed the whole way to my apartment God would give me the strength to say no to want ever he purposed. Sex mainly. I definately couldn't say no to it without the back up from a higher power. Even if my life depended on it.

Shit, my phone. It was a text. 'Hey, instead, meet at our place. My driver's waiting at your steps.' He trusted his driver with his life. However, i didn't like the fact he knew about us. I hated it actually.

My taxi drops me off at my little home. I gave him his money and handed him my card, 'here's my business line. Call me if you need a job.' He smiled and tried to speak, but i slammed the door before he could get a syllabel out. I liked the fact he didn't ask too many questions. Just a little concern but he trusted me anyway. I saw his name on the dash while we drove. It was Roberto.

I saw his driver and said, 'Just 2 minutes, i swear.' I haulled ass up stairs and changed from Armani to a vintage sundress. I tried to fix my makeup but it was no use. I couldn't wip off how i felt right now. As i stared at my situation, i could see my conscience shaking its head at me. 'Your gonna regret it' it mumbled. Thats when i broke eye contacted, and downed a shot of vodka before i hit the road. 'It's gonna be one hell of a night.' i said in my head. My conscience groaned.


End file.
